When we arrived back at school I made my way back to my dorm and took a shower. I would have just plain crashed, but I was still soaking wet and I probably didn't smell great. I can tell you Grant didn't.

The shower was hot thank God. Once during 8th grade, the school cut all of the hot water supply just to see what we would do. I'm pretty sure the person whose idea it was regreted it. I can't really tell you if he did because he was never to be seen or heard from again after it happened.

Fun Fact #2: If you are going to mess with a school full of boys. Don't mess with the one school where every occupant has been personally trained to be able to kill you with a paper clip.

When I got out of the shower I pulled on my cumfy sweat pants and a T shirt and started to srumble back towards my bed. I ran into someone on the other side of the door and managed to pin them to the wall before even proccessing who it was. In approxamately 4 seconds I recognized the voice of the boy I had pinned and groaned.

"Jonas. What are you still doing up it's 1:46 in the freaking morning!" Jonas was my other roommate. He was on the reaserch track of study which meant that he didn't do the types of missions that Grant and I did. It also meant that he could hack into pretty much anything that we asked him to. I think he had a photographic memory to, but I had never asked.

"I heard you and Grant were back and wanted to check in with how everything went." I released my hand from around his throat and rubbed my eyes.

"It was fine Jonas. It's not like anything was going to actually be fatal." I muttered as I walked over to my bed and collapsed on to it. Actually knowing the teachers here, some of the obsticals certainly might have been fatal. I figured that Jonas worried enough though, and decided not to mention it.

"Actually according to my calculations a paintball fired with the momentum of-."

"Jonas! No offense, but I barely understand you when I am fully and completely conscius and right now, I'm no where near. Do you think you could wait to tell me how fatal a paint ball can be once I've slept for a couple of hours?" The door opened and I saw my way of escape. "Besides I'm sure Grant wouls love to know!"

I could practically feel Jonas's expression brighten and buried my face into my pillow. He started going on and on to Grant about angles and trajectories and momentum. It worked better than sleeping pills to put me over the edge.

Just before I slipped into sleep, Grant caught my eye and mouthed: You are a total dead man!

I just smirked at him and tried not to think about just how right he really was.

It was a full 4 days later before we left the school again. We just went about improving our knoweldge. I personally aced a test in physco logical manipulation (not something I am necessarily proud of), and drank a whole leader of soda in 30 seconds (Something I am extremely proud of).

It was extremely early in the morning when Dr. Steve came into the dinning hall with a mega phone and started talking. "Boys, today I have truly excellent news!"

We all rolled our eyes. To Dr. Steve a nuclear attack would have been excellent news. The only reason that i paid attention at all was because he was talking in arabic where almost every word could mean up to three things.

Right now he was either saying, "We're going on a field trip for CoveOps." or "Their snowing on a tiled trip for the co-op." I'm going with option one. I'm pretty sure I wasn't the only one confused though, because some of the freshmen were mouthing, It's snowing where?

Now he was probably saying, "Put on some civillian clothes we leave in ten minutes." the other option was just to weird to even contemplate.

We all got up and once we were out of the caffeteria Grant whispered, "What do you think we need civilian clothes for."

I just shrugged. I didn't even think we had any access to our civilian clothes anymore. They had all been confiscated on arrival. At Blackthorne all of the boys wore neon prison jump suites. Our cover for the school is a correctional facility for disturbed and violent boys. Believe me, boys came out more disturbed, violent, and highly in need of therapy than they are going into it.

I changed into jeans and a Tee shirt and threw on a winter coat. Grant and I met up with 7 other guys in our CoveOps class. We piled into the helicopter without asking any questions. It's how we're trained. The helicopter blades whired and thwacked through the air. I just tipped my head back and counted the seconds until we landed. I could here Grant snoring. That guy can sleep anywhere!

"Blindfolds on everybody!" Dr. Steve called. I rolled my eyes to grant and we pulled the blindfolds over our heads. I felt someone guide me out of the helicopter and into a van. It started to move and 12 minutes later the van stopped.

"Blindfolds away! Excellence! No one is to sleepy to work are you?" It was one of those highly rhetorical questions that only an idiot would try to answere. Thank God no one was that stupid. "Excellent! now today gentlemen you are going to be talling some extremely gifted young operatives. The details of each operative are in the envelopes under your seats."

I retrieved my envelope and opened it to find myselfe looking at a picture of a very pretty girl with caramel colored hair. Her features were pretty but not necessarily beutiful. Her skin was pale but not white and her eye color didn't seem to be set. She looked like she was around my age of fifteen.

I looked over at Grant and almost laughed at his expression. His eyes were plate sized and his mouth was open wide enough to swallow a whole swarm of flies. I looked at the photo in his hand. It was of a beutiful girl with dark skin, black hair, and brown eyes. She too looked to be around fifteen.

"Umm this might be a stupid question," a boy named Jake said. "But why are we following highschool girls?"

Oh no. I thought. My stomache filling with dread. Oh Dear God for once just don't say what I think that you're about to say.

"These girls attend a school called The Gallagher Academy for Exceptional Young Women!"

You really are pure evil aren't you? I thought. Because my mother went to Gallagher and I watched her kill someone. I didn't know why, but this girl in the photo didn't fit that image. She seemed to small, too innocent. She didn't look like she could be a killer. In fact for some strange reason, the very thought of it was making my vision go red. The idea that this girl could be anything like my mother.

"So everyone report back here at 1800 hours, and remember have an excellent time!"

It took almost all of my self controll to stop myselfe from launching myselfe across the van and strageling him. My hands were in tight fists at my side and despite all of my training I could feel my face turning red. Grant pulled me quickly out of the van but I was still seing in red patches. Grant flicked my forhead several times.

"Zach. Zach! Zach!"

"What!" I snapped.

"Sorry. It's just, I've never seen you lose your control like that before. It's like something in you snapped."

I took a deep breath. "Lets just go look for the girls okay? Two man tailing team."

"Fine. Sounds good. It's just-"

"I don't want to talk about it okay? I just lost it for a second it's nothing."

Grant just nodded and let the subject drop.

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